


Throat Kiss

by MamaMystique



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: F/M, Hannibal is a pouty cannibal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-13
Updated: 2014-06-13
Packaged: 2018-02-04 12:32:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1779232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MamaMystique/pseuds/MamaMystique
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Hannibal, stop that, I’m reading!”</p>
<p>Prompted on Tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Throat Kiss

“Hannibal, stop that, I’m reading!”

Hannibal paused, a disappointed look flickering across his face. Not that Bedelia saw – she was _reading_.

He had found her in the library, perched on a window seat dressed in a silky white set of loose pants and a matching top. Her black glasses were balancing on the bridge of her nose, slipping ever so slightly as she devoured the psychology text before her.

She had been there all day. And as much as Hannibal could appreciate someone becoming lost in their own world, she hadn’t touched the breakfast he had brought her that morning, or the lunch that had grown cold two hours ago. He was concerned that he had done something wrong, but she had only brushed off his worries with a distracted “of course not.” Which only served to worry him further.

Hannibal had to break her concentration, if not for her own well-being, then for his. He had come in to take away the trays he had brought her and replace them with a glass of water; Bedelia was still translating the text before her, whispering the words under her breath as she felt them out with her tongue.

“Come Bedelia. You’ve been there all day.”

She whispered a few more words in her translation before addressing him. “I’m alright Hannibal. I’m not mad at you. It’s just that this text is fascinating.”

Hannibal had no doubt that it was, but he surprised even himself with the response that formed in his mind. He wasn’t a lovesick child starved for attention, and yet some part of him couldn’t accept her response. He wanted her to spend the rest of the day with him, not curled up and alone in the library. He could take her to the plaza, or to walk near the boats. He might even stretch to taking her to the beach.

“It’s beautiful outside. Let me show you. I can make us reservations at the café if you like.”

“I’m quite content here. You don’t need to entertain me, darling.”

But Hannibal couldn’t leave her there. Perhaps, if she wouldn’t listen to him…

Hannibal came to her side, kissing the top of her hair gently as he ran his fingers through it. Gently, he began rubbing the base of her skull. Bedelia sighed happily, but still didn’t leave her book.

“The book will be here tomorrow,” he pushed.

“I’m almost done.”

Hannibal couldn’t stop himself before a disgruntled huff escaped him. Bedelia cocked her head, turning to him briefly with a puzzled look on her face as he tried to pass it off as a change in breath.

“Did you just huff at me?”

“No.”

“I distinctly heard a huff. Hannibal, is it so bad that sometimes I just want to sit and read for a day?”

He didn’t answer her, and that was answer enough. A smile of disbelief graced her cheeks as she turned back to the text. It was clear that it was going to take something much more to tear her away.

Thinking for a moment, Hannibal crouched slightly and brought his lips to her ear. Ever so gently, he placed a gentle nip to the shell, and Bedelia nearly leaped out of her skin in response.

“Hannibal, stop that, I’m reading!” But underneath her mild frustration he heard a soft, pleased breath. So that is what it would take.

Triumph blooming across his features, Hannibal grinned wickedly and sat on the edge beside her. He took the shell of her ear between his teeth again, running his tongue across the top.

“You are incorrigible today!”

But before she could shake him off, he growled and purposefully tugged at her ear lobe. Bedelia took in a shaky breath in response, the book coming to slip in her lap. Her hands hung in the air between the book and Hannibal’s head, trying to decide what to do, how to stop him or keep him going. His kisses began trailing down her neck, and he mumbled into her skin.

“Come with me, Bedelia,” he repeated. “I promise,” he whispered as his arms wrapped around her, his lips trailing to their destination, “that we don’t,” he exhaled across the hollow of her throat, her weak point, the one place she only sometimes regretted telling him was such a sensitive area for her, and she shivered, “even have to leave the house.”

Her responding soft moan was abruptly interrupted by a loud gasp of pleasure as he pressed a full, deep kiss to her throat. His tongue soothed what his teeth provoked, and her head fell back as her breath grew audible. Hannibal’s head tilted as he pressed his lips to her skin, then dragged his teeth up from her throat to her jaw, slowly, torturously, tongue flickering occasionally to create an overwhelming sensation of sharp and soft.

When he pulled back, he couldn’t hide his pleasure with his work. Bedelia’s pupils were blown wide behind her glasses, her cheeks flushed and the book forgotten in her lap.

“But,” he said quietly, wanting to drag out his torture, “I do not want to distract you.” His hands withdrew quickly, and he turned to leave her.

There is such a satisfactory quality to hearing an old, large book slam close. It sounds like finality, like accomplishment, like a release.

“Like hell you don’t.”

Hannibal had barely taken two steps before the book was cast aside to the floor and Bedelia was upon him. Her hands snaked around his waist, nails scratching through his dress shirt as she desperately (but gently) bit him between his shoulder blades.

“You’re finishing exactly what you started,” she growled fiercely behind him.

And how could he ever deny her?


End file.
